


Can't Fight The Moonlight

by Joolzmp7



Series: Can't Fight The Moonlight [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Marking, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Touching, Vampire Sex, Vampire Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joolzmp7/pseuds/Joolzmp7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John acknowledges that Sherlock is gorgeous in the moonlight and eventually works up the courage to ask him out but he doesn't know the real reason behind it.  This is what happens when he finds out the truth and the fun they have discovering where that can lead them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Fight The Moonlight

Can’t Fight The Moonlight

By Joolz

 

It happened every time. John didn’t know what it was but somehow Sherlock just seemed to glow in the moonlight. Make no mistake, it wasn’t that the smug git didn’t look amazing all the time, day or night; it was just that when the sun set there seemed to be something extra added to his natural allure. In the sun Sherlock was quite pale and usually had his sunglasses on as he had a sensitivity to the bright daylight. He wasn’t too bad when it was cloudy or grey which, let’s be honest, was quite a regular occurrence in London, but when the sun was full out John often saw Sherlock wincing and moving to stand in the shade to get some relief. He never let that stop him when he was at a crime scene, of course, nothing would come between him and the work.

John found himself watching out for Sherlock when they were out and about and almost subconsciously finding areas of shade wherever they went and more secluded pathways always won out over long walks in direct sunshine. He’d almost gone so far as to consider carrying an umbrella around with him like Mycroft did, but that seemed one step too far and he just couldn’t bring himself to imitate Sherlock’s brother and face the no-doubt ceaseless mocking he would endure.

John found himself always thinking of Sherlock in other ways too. He tried to make him eat and sleep, wanting to keep him at the peak of health, but regardless of how little food Sherlock partook of he never ran out of energy; and as tired and restless as Sherlock appeared during the day he seemed to come to life even more at night, never flagging as John did himself. It didn’t stop John caring though, he was a doctor, that was what he did and he had sometimes caught Sherlock giving him an indulgent, endearing look when he didn’t think John was looking.

John had long since accepted that his own often repeated comments of ‘Not Gay’ were merely reactionary and he had settled into a kind of resigned state that he was either plain bisexual or, as there were very few man who physically aroused him, more likely Sherlock-sexual if that was even a thing. There had been a few times of stress relief during his army days which had all been of the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ variety and which his army mates had all claimed didn’t count. There was just something about his flatmate, however, that he couldn’t resist and more and more he found himself not wanting to.

~*~

Sherlock was a nocturnal person. He slept very little at the best of times and never when on a case, but when he did snatch a nap it was usually during the day leaving the nights free for him to wander the streets. John had slowly found his own sleeping patterns getting later and later as he liked to join Sherlock for a walk in an evening and they would often be out past midnight just walking the streets and alleyways of London. They usually included at least one of the parks as part of their route because Sherlock knew how much John liked looking at him in the moonlight and they would often pause at beauty spots where they could be seen to be enjoying the sights and John could surreptitiously gaze his fill at Sherlock and Sherlock could pretend not to notice.

Sherlock had decided very soon after they met that he wanted John in every sense of the word, but he wanted John to want him for himself and not just to fall under his thrall. He had lured innumerable people in before with his charms and had enjoyed every one of them, but they had meant nothing to him in the scheme of things. John he could imagine being with for the long haul, even going so far as to consider turning him if it was something John might want in the future. That would, of course, depend on John finding out and accepting his secret. A secret that he had never told anyone. The only people who knew were family, which unfortunately meant Mycroft, but as long as he didn’t have to see too much of him, he could put up with that. He did have his occasional uses after all; certainly the discrete blood deliveries which appeared in the extra fridge hidden in his bedroom whilst he and John were out saved him from having to be bothered to try and sneak it in himself without John noticing.

Sherlock could tone down most of his many alluring qualities. They were all designed to make him irresistible, to entice his prey and allow him to drink his fill without problem or resistance and he could heighten or lower them depending on whether he wanted to be noticed or blend into the background. The only thing he couldn’t change was the way the moonlight shone on his skin. What was normally sallow in sunlight took on an almost ethereal quality under the moon, making him look stunningly beautiful and tempting even John to take notice.

He had made sure to capture John’s attention before they’d started their walks just to prove that he could; that it wasn’t just the night that had drawn John in. He had shown John what he was capable of and enjoyed the unreserved enthusiasm John had for his deductions which provided its own extra joy to him as people rarely, if ever, reacted positively towards his observations. It didn’t seem to matter whether the deductions were personal details about John or an in depth analysis of the latest crime scene, John was just awed by Sherlock’s skill and didn’t hesitate to tell him so. John had been living with him long enough to also know all his bad habits and nothing seemed to scare him away; not even the head in the fridge had garnered more than resigned exasperation. Now he was just waiting for John to make his move. 

~*~

John had more or less decided he was going to ask Sherlock out for a proper date. He just had to get his nerve up to put his plan into action. He had a few doubts about going ahead, his main one being that he didn’t want to risk ruining the friendship they already had and his second being why on earth would Sherlock be interested in him of all people when he could have anyone he wanted.

John saw the way everyone looked at Sherlock, they seemed to be drawn to him whether they wanted to be or not. There were two sorts of looks he usually got. There were the irritated glares from the people he worked with and insulted on a regular basis - Mrs Hudson, Lestrade and Molly being the rare exceptions to that list; even when he was being vile to these people they all had trouble dragging their eyes away from him.

Then there were the adoring gazes from random members of the public, both men and women as they passed him in the street, especially when they were on their nightly walks. These were the worst and John found himself trying to run interference; he would draw Sherlock away, distract his attention – not that Sherlock seemed particularly interested in anyone else, but John didn’t want to take any chances – and often times John would put his hand possessively on Sherlock’s arm or lower back in view of the passer-by to show them that Sherlock was taken.

Sherlock loved it when John touched him like that. He didn’t think John even realised what he was doing; that he was inadvertently giving off ‘hands off, he’s mine’ signals; certainly not in the beginning when he had started doing it anyway. Now he seemed a little more blatant about it and Sherlock was secretly thrilled that John was showing a possessive interest in him. He tried to reward John by smiling deeply at him whenever he was touched and the positive reinforcement seemed to be working as John had begun doing it more often. He would put his hand on Sherlock’s back when he ushered him through a door or brush his fingers across Sherlock’s hand when passing him a cup of tea. Sherlock made sure to reciprocate on the exceedingly rare occasions he put the kettle on which was usually only when he was trying to get back in John’s good books after a minor explosion in the kitchen or when John discovered one of his jumpers had been experimented on, ‘obviously to validate a vital alibi, John’.

~*~

They had gone out for their usual evening stroll and Sherlock made sure to wend their way towards Regent’s Park, one of their favourite spots, as he could sense John’s nervous energy and wondered if he would finally work up the courage to ask his question tonight. Sherlock had sensed it was in the offing and done all he could to give off positive signals to all of John’s overtures. He was finding it almost entertaining to be pursued in this way as usually he was the one doing the chasing – well it wasn’t even chasing, the thralls just fell into his lap with no effort expended at all. This time he was happy to let John take the lead. John was the sort who liked to be in control and Sherlock hoped that when his secret did come out John wouldn’t feel so much as if he had been tricked if the whole thing was his own idea.

It was a dazzling full moon tonight and John was almost struck dumb at Sherlock’s beauty as they stood together on what they’d come to think of as their bridge. It had taken John longer than he had hoped to get started. He had had his speech well-rehearsed in his head and was just about to deliver it when a cloud moved away from the moon and its full light shone down on Sherlock who just glowed. He was caught in the light shining down as well as the reflection of the scene in the river which was almost as beautiful as the real thing. John had to take several moments to remember to close his gaping mouth and to gather his thoughts about him again before he could continue.

“Erm, Sherlock. Can I ask…?” John broke off as Sherlock turned, capturing his gaze and staring deeply into his eyes. John was entranced again and had to shake his head to clear his mind and carry on.

“Sherlock. I wanted...”

“Yes, John?” Sherlock’s deep baritone sent a shiver through John and for the third time in as many minutes, John was fighting to articulate a single sentence. John frowned for a moment, annoyed at himself for his lack of control and at Sherlock for his apparently inadvertent interruptions. Sherlock smiled to himself but decided to give John a break; he could see how hard he was trying.

“Sherlock. I wanted to ask if you would like to go out for a meal tomorrow night? With me. As a date, I mean.” John was still a little flustered so he tried again. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I can think of nothing I would like more, John.”

“Really? Because I can think of lots of things I would like more – most especially to kiss those lips right now.” John blinked as if he was shocked he had actually said that.

Sherlock smiled wolfishly down at him. “Mmm, Dr Watson, I like where your mind is going.”

“Are you sure? Because right now it seems to be blurting out whatever it feels like.”

“Do you mean you don’t want to kiss me?”

“Oh no, I absolutely do, I just wasn’t expecting to say so quite as openly.”

“Openly is definitely how I like you.” Sherlock smiled again and stepped closer to John, gazing down into his eyes.

John stared for a moment and then shook his head. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what, John?”

“That. Being all tempting and gorgeous. I just can’t resist you.”

“Do you want to resist me?” Sherlock smirked. “Because we could try that too if you were interested.”

“Oh now that’s just unfair.” They both laughed. “A simple kiss will suffice for now, thank you, and we can go from there.”

“In that case. I’m. All. Yours.”

Sherlock emphasised his words and bent his head closer to John. John smiled at him and leant up to press his lips gently against Sherlock’s own. It was as if that first touch drew them together and lit a spark. John’s hands shot up to grasp Sherlock’s face and he pulled him down for a much deeper kiss, lips, tongues and teeth all clashing as they couldn’t get enough of each other and had to taste what the other had to offer.

John sucked Sherlock’s bottom lip into his mouth and bit it gently; Sherlock groaned and did the same back. His canines had slightly lowered and, as he bit down, one broke the surface. A bead of blood welled up on John’s lip and Sherlock slid his tongue across the droplet to have his first taste. He moaned deep in his throat and drew John’s lip into his mouth and sucked down hard on it, trying to get as much blood from the small puncture as he could. John shivered, enjoying the pressure Sherlock was using on his lip and he ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, pulling lightly on the ends. 

Sherlock let go as he gasped at the sensation of John’s fingers massaging his scalp and pulling his hair. John took advantage of the release to slide his lips down Sherlock’s neck. He started behind his ear and laid a trail of kisses all the way down, alternating between light presses of the lips, slides of the tongue, and gentle nibbling of teeth. Sherlock was quivering in reaction and as John got to the pulse point and sucked in a deep love bite, Sherlock’s fingers dug into John’s hip and he shouted.

“John! Unless you want this to go much further in public than you’re comfortable with we need to stop right now.”

“You want to stop?” John looked as if he was being pulled from a daze and wasn’t quite with it. “Was I not good?”

“Oh John. You could never not be good. That’s the problem. I want to have you right here, right now and I don’t think your middle class sensibilities could handle the very public display we would be putting on.”

“So I was good.” John smiled looking pleased with himself but still appearing slightly out of it.

“Yes, John, did you not hear me? You know I don’t like repeating myself.”

John shook his head to clear it somewhat as he picked up on the slight tone in Sherlock’s voice. “Sorry, I think I got carried away a bit there. You just taste so good, Sherlock.”

“As do you, John. Now do you want to stick with your original plan of taking me on a date tomorrow or do you want to take me home and ravish me right now?”

John’s mouth fell open as the words registered. He was being offered Sherlock on a platter. There was no question about his decision. He didn’t even need to say anything; he just took hold of Sherlock’s hand and starting dragging him back towards Baker Street, looking over his shoulder every few steps as if to make sure that Sherlock was still there.

As if Sherlock would be anywhere else when he was finally getting what he wanted. John was letting his 'Captain Watson' side have free rein and Sherlock could feel the excitement flowing from him through their joined hands. John’s pulse was racing and Sherlock could hear the way his heart was beating almost double time in his eagerness to reach home and to take what was on offer when he got there. There were so many things Sherlock wanted to do to him but he had made the decision to leave this one in John’s hands and he wouldn’t change his mind now. There would be plenty of time for him to take what he wanted later – well he hoped so anyway.

They raced straight up the stairs to their flat and John took barely a moment to decide to carry right on, pulling Sherlock up the next flight, too, towards his own room. He rarely entered Sherlock’s room and didn’t know quite what state it might be in or whether there might be an experiment set up in there so he decided his own room was safest as it was in the same tidy state in which he always left it, plus he knew he had lube in his drawer and if this evening was going to proceed in the manner which he hoped then that would be essential. Sherlock seemed happy to follow his lead so John was going to take every advantage he could.

When they got up the stairs, John pulled Sherlock into his room, slamming the door shut behind them and pressing Sherlock up against it, his lips quickly finding Sherlock’s own and taking possession. John’s hands pushed inside Sherlock’s coat and he slid them up and down Sherlock’s sides a few times, pulling his shirt out of his trousers a bit further on each pass. When it finally came loose, John slipped his hands underneath and revelled in his first touch of that soft skin below his fingertips. It wasn’t enough; he had a feeling it would never be enough, but he had to see that skin, feel more of it with his fingers and his lips. He needed to taste it all, to see if it was as delicious as Sherlock’s neck.

John slid Sherlock’s coat off, quickly moving on to unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Sherlock undid his cuffs to help things along and John was soon pushing the shirt off as well. Sherlock’s skin glowed in the moonlight coming in through John’s window and it caused John to pause his previous frenzy and instead he tenderly traced over the surface, following each trail with his tongue and placing gentle kisses on the moonlit skin. When John’s tongue traced over the edge of his nipple Sherlock shivered and sucked in a deep breath and as quickly as that it seemed that a switch had been flicked in John and once again he was desperate for anything he could reach. Where his tongue and lips had been gentle his teeth now sought dominance and John dragged them over the skin, pressing a trail with them and sucking the skin into his mouth, wanting to leave his mark on Sherlock and cover as much of him as he could.

Sherlock loved it; he loved that John could be both gentle and rough and he was just aching to be touched everywhere and to see what else John would do. He didn’t have to wait for long. It seemed that John wanted Sherlock just as much and was as eager to see the rest of him. John moved his hands down to undo Sherlock’s zip, teasing him as he went, trying not to actually touch Sherlock’s cock directly. He pulled his trousers down and was greatly impressed by the bulge in Sherlock’s silk boxers. John’s eyes flicked up to Sherlock’s face and caught him trying to hide the smug look on his face. Two could play at this game. John grinned up at him and then leaned in and sucked Sherlock’s tip, boxers and all, deeply into his mouth and he thrilled at the way Sherlock’s head fell back against the wall as he groaned and his legs shook, threatening to collapse if John hadn’t been holding him tightly round the hips.

John peeled off the now dampened silk and took in his first sight of a fully naked Sherlock. He was astounded that he was actually allowed access to all this beauty. He ran his finger up Sherlock’s inner thigh, circled his balls and then continued along his shaft, pausing at the slit to pick up the little droplet which had gathered. He smiled to himself as he sucked his finger deep into his mouth, groaning around it and pumping it in and out as pornographically as he could just to see Sherlock’s face. Sherlock’s jaw dropped and, when he saw the smile in John’s eyes, he pulled him upright and latched on to his lower lip where he had bitten him before.

“You are a wicked man, John Watson.”

“Takes one to know one, Sherlock Holmes.”

“How did I get lucky enough to deserve you?”

“Are you crazy? I’m the lucky one here. You could have anyone and you’ve somehow ended up stuck with me. I keep waiting for you to realise your mistake and call a halt.”

“John, John, John.” Sherlock shook his hand and took John’s face in his hands, running his thumbs over John’s cheeks. “How mistaken you are and how little you value yourself. It is not a case of being ‘stuck’ as you put it; it is more a case of being enchanted and revelling at my good fortune. If, as you say, I could have anyone then doesn’t it prove something that I’m here with you; that it’s a considered decision on my part; that it’s something I willingly chose and want.”

“Sherlock, I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I want you more than anything too. I just feel so lucky and honoured that I am the one you’re sharing yourself with.”

“Speaking of sharing oneself,” Sherlock smiled to lighten the mood and rotated his hips, brushing his cock against the very obvious bulge in John’s trousers. “One of us appears to be seriously overdressed in this partnership.”

“Well that can be easily rectified.” John grinned at him. “Get yourself on the bed and I’ll be right with you.”

Sherlock rushed across the room and jumped on to the bed, shuffling himself backwards so that he wouldn’t lose sight of John as he moved. He didn’t want to miss his first proper look at John.  
John felt elated, both from Sherlock’s comments and the way he was looking at him, so he undressed slowly, allowing Sherlock to look his fill at each stage, knowing he would need time to absorb all the new data presented to him. It didn’t hurt that it was ramping the tension up a bit further either, John loving the way Sherlock’s eyes roved over his body and Sherlock loving that he was finally getting to see John in all his glory. He was desperate to focus on that scar, to examine all that had been done to John, but that would keep for another time. There was something else he was more desperate to see now and John had finally got that far.

John turned round as he stripped off his underwear so the first view Sherlock got was of his bum and never had Sherlock wanted to sink his teeth into arse cheeks more desperately than he did right then. They were round and smooth and obviously strongly muscled as Sherlock watched John tense them as he felt himself being watched. John looked at Sherlock over his shoulder and wiggled his arse and his eyebrows at him.

Sherlock was off the bed quicker than John could blink and the next thing John knew he felt long fingers squeezing his arse and a chin stretching over his shoulder, reaching for his lips. They kissed deeply, Sherlock’s fingers kneading the skin before moving forward around John’s hips to circle his groin and slide down his shaft. Sherlock leaned further forward over John’s shoulder so he could look at what he was touching. John’s head fell back against Sherlock’s neck as he let out a heavy sigh of delight at the feel of Sherlock’s caress. He turned his head to kiss Sherlock’s ear which was about all he could reach from that angle. John wanted those lips again, so loath as he was to stop what Sherlock was doing, he twisted his body round and wound his arms up around Sherlock’s neck as he pulled him down for more of the deep, drugging kisses of which he was already becoming so fond.

They managed to make their way over to the bed whilst still kissing, Sherlock crawling backwards as John leant over him and straddled his way until they were both fully sited then Sherlock let go as his head dropped down to the bed.

“Take me, John. Please. I want to feel you in me.”

“Oh God, yes. I want that too.”

John reached over for the lube from his drawer and quickly covered his fingers while Sherlock bent his knees up and to the side allowing John free access. John moved between Sherlock’s legs and kissed his way from one knee all the way down to Sherlock’s cock which was busily demanding attention. As he took the head in his mouth he circled Sherlock’s hole with his fingers and slipped one in. Sherlock let out a deep moan at the double sensations, his hands finding John's hair and gripping and releasing reflexively as John sucked him.

John worked Sherlock open slowly, enjoying the noises he was drawing from him. When he couldn't take it any longer he moved to get a condom but Sherlock stilled his hand. 

"We're both clean, John, there's no need for that, believe me. Just you, please, I can't wait much longer."

"Me neither, Sherlock."

John lifted Sherlock's legs up onto his shoulders and pushed his way in to Sherlock in three stages until his balls were touching Sherlock's arse. He paused there to allow Sherlock a moment to adjust and let out a long sigh at the sheer bliss of being buried deep inside Sherlock, the pressure tight and hot around his cock. When Sherlock gave him a little nod John started moving, drawing almost completely out and then pushing in slowly again. He did this a few times, changing his angle slightly each time until he brushed against Sherlock's prostate as he pushed in, making Sherlock shiver and moan. John grinned down at him and did it again and again until Sherlock was a quivering mess underneath him just muttering his name as if he'd forgotten every other word in his head.

John sped up, no longer able to resist or take it slow at the sight of the man writhing in front of him; desperately wanting to see his face as he came; to see Sherlock blissed out and to know that he was the reason. John grabbed on to Sherlock's hips tightly, pulling Sherlock towards him on each thrust, slamming in as hard as he could and driving them both towards their limit.

"John, I'm close."

"Oh yes, me too. Touch yourself for me. Let me see you come. Please, Sherlock."

Sherlock took hold of his cock and stroked it fast, keeping pace with John. It only took a handful of strokes until he felt his balls tightening and he was coming hard all over his hand and abdomen. His passage contracted around John and John only took a couple more thrusts before he too was filling Sherlock as he shuddered to his release.

Sherlock's legs slid off John's shoulders and John collapsed down between Sherlock's legs, managing to slide slightly off centre to allow him to breathe but just unable to hold himself up any longer. Sherlock wasn't in much better condition and they just lay there for a while whilst they both recovered.

~*~

“Wow. That was amazing. I think you’re like some kind of sex God.”

“Well I don’t think God would be the phrase most commonly used; it’s more often termed demon.”

“You’re not that bad, Sherlock. You shouldn’t listen to all those people like Anderson; they’re just idiots.”

“That’s certainly true in Anderson’s case, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. John, I… There’s something I need to tell you. It’s something I’ve never told anyone before and I need you to not freak out.”

“That sounds a bit ominous. What is it?”

“John. I know that this will be hard for you to believe but… I’m a vampire.”

John burst out laughing. “I thought you were being serious then, you idiot.”

“I am being serious, John.”

Sherlock looked at John with his piercing eyes and then he opened his mouth to show John his teeth. Whilst John watched he extended his canines to drop down to their biting position and then sat there allowing John to take it all in.

John’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. He scrambled backwards off the bed and stood with his back against the wall, arms splayed in front of him.

“What… What are you telling me? Is this real? It can’t be real; do you have fake teeth or something? Is this some stupid joke?”

“It’s not a joke, John. These are very real.” With that he brought his arm up to his mouth and sank his fangs into his arm and then pulled it free to show John the puncture wounds; two thin trails of blood dripping down his arm.

“Are… are you going to kill me?”

“Don’t be stupid. Why on earth would I do that, especially after what we’ve just done?”

“You could be like a praying mantis or something, sex before death. I don’t know. I can’t think. I… I need to get out of here.”

John grabbed his shirt and trousers and ran down the stairs, throwing on his clothes as he went. He pushed his feet into his shoes as he ran towards the door and suddenly Sherlock was standing in front of him. John staggered back, looking behind him towards the stairs. How on earth had Sherlock got in front of him? Sherlock held his arms out in front of him, trying to calm John down.

“John. Wait, please. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t kill people. I did ask you not to freak out.”

“You can’t tell someone something like that and not expect them to freak out. You just sank your fangs into your own arm, for fucks sake.”

“Yes, into my arm, not yours. I wouldn’t do that unless you asked me to, though believe me you’d enjoy it if I did.”

“You can’t say that. Why on earth would I want you to bite me? Are you insane? I may like danger but I don’t have a death wish.”

“It wouldn’t kill you, John. A vampire’s bite releases endorphins into your pleasure centres and can heighten sexual enjoyment a hundredfold.”

“You expect me to have sex with you after that? You really are crazy. Get out of my way. I need some air.”

Sherlock could see that John needed some time to absorb what he had just learned so he stepped aside and allowed John to sidle past him.

“You are coming back aren’t you, John?”

Sherlock put his hand out to catch hold of John’s arm as he left. John shrugged it off quickly and pulled away, just looking at Sherlock before he fled down the stairs and out into the street. Sherlock closed the door and went over to the window where he saw John hurrying down the road in the direction of the park where their evening had started so well. He placed his forehead and palm against the window and watched until John disappeared from sight, wondering what he was going to do now. Was John going to come back? How would he survive if he didn’t?

~*~

John charged down the street not even looking where he was going until he found himself in their park, back on the bridge where it all began. How could everything have changed so much in a couple of hours? He had been happier than he could ever remember being and then suddenly Sherlock had thrown this bombshell in his face and what the hell was he supposed to do now. He rested his arms against the struts of the bridge and tried to reason it all out.

A vampire. A bloody vampire! Did they even exist? Well he’d just seen it for himself so he supposed he’d have to accept that at least. But a killer? How could Sherlock be a killer? – Maybe Donovan knew what she was talking about when she’d first met him and tried to talk him out of being Sherlock’s friend. No, that couldn’t be right; Sherlock had said he didn’t kill people and John believed him, he didn’t know why after what he’d just discovered but he did. So maybe the stories weren’t true – stories – vampires were storybook creatures, not real. It couldn’t be real; but it was real. Everything just whirled round and round in John’s head.

So did Sherlock drink blood? He’d never seen it but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. He’d certainly bitten his own arm easily enough. And John’s lip! He remembered Sherlock sucking his lip when it had been nicked and then groaning in pleasure. He hadn’t tried to bite John though and he’d certainly had plenty of opportunities. In fact, Sherlock had ceded control to John of the whole encounter. Was that how he liked it or had he just been letting John see that he wouldn’t try and make John do anything he didn’t want? John had certainly enjoyed taking Sherlock but he had to admit he wanted to feel Sherlock inside him too. Whoa, stop right there – vampire remember. That wasn’t happening. Nothing was happening ever again. That was it, over, finished.

Was it though? Was that really what he wanted? Was he ready for what they had only just discovered to be over when it had hardly begun? Did he want to move out and never see Sherlock again? If he was honest with himself - and he always tried to be - then no he didn’t. He had lived with Sherlock for over a year now and except for the crazy experiments and body parts in the fridge (which had all come from Molly because he’d been there when she’d given them to Sherlock so they hadn’t been removed by Sherlock personally – don’t even go down that road!) he had no problems with him at all. Surely if Sherlock had been going to do something to John or even to someone else it would have happened by now and John would have seen some kind of evidence. Did that mean that Sherlock was safe? – safe: not really a word that could be ascribed to Sherlock Holmes – but still, in relative terms, he had never hurt John.

So if he did want to continue living with Sherlock what would that mean? Would Sherlock want to bite him? Would he be constantly scared for his life? He supposed it just came down to how he felt about Sherlock. So how did he feel? If you’d have asked him before this evening he would have said that he was well on the way to falling in love with the man so with this new information he had to ask himself deep down if his feelings had now changed? Did he still feel like Sherlock was the only person he could see himself with? Again, he had to be honest with himself, the answer was still yes. Ok, so Sherlock was dangerous, but hadn’t he always been? Even before John had found out about this new side of him, Sherlock had always lived on the edge and that had been exactly what had drawn John to him in the first place. He loved the risk and the chance of running into danger with Sherlock so wasn’t this just another new aspect of that? What was really different about their lives from a few hours ago except that Sherlock had revealed a hitherto unknown aspect of his persona?

John looked down into the depths below him, the water reflecting the waning moonlight. It would be dawn soon, a new day beginning and he had to decide how he wanted to face it. Was he going to give up and flee from what he had found out and the life he had made with Sherlock or was he going to go back and face what his new life had become? Ok, so Sherlock was a vampire and John needed answers to some questions first and foremost to understand everything more clearly before things went any further, but surely it was something he could deal with. He was a doctor and a soldier. He’d faced difficult situations before. He’d faced everything Sherlock had already thrown at him. He could face this too. He drew himself up, pulled his shoulders back and nodded his head. He was going back.

~*~

Sherlock hadn’t moved. He was still standing at the window looking towards where John had gone. He didn’t know what he was going to do now. He wanted John and that’s all there was to it. Of course, he knew John would be shocked at finding out his secret, but he’d thought that John would be able to get past it and accept what he was. Now he wasn’t so sure. Surely he would have been back by now if he was coming? It was nearly dawn; Sherlock could always sense the sun rising by his very nature. John. John. The word was just circling in his head. He wanted John to come back. He wanted John, full stop.

There was a flicker of movement at the end of the street. Sherlock had excellent night vision but he still strained his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was John. John with his head up, marching down the street purposefully towards him. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Did it mean he’d made his decision to leave or stay? Sherlock still stood watching and as John got closer he looked up and saw Sherlock in the window, his eyes following him closely. John climbed the stairs into the flat and stood by the door, closing it behind him and looking at Sherlock who remained where he was with his back to him.

“Just tell me now if you’re leaving me please, John.”

“How could I ever leave you? You idiot.”

Sherlock spun round. John only called him an idiot when he was exasperated but still impressed despite himself, never when he was angry. He wasn’t going to leave him. Sherlock made as if to come towards John but John stopped him, pointing at his chair.

“Sit. I have questions before we go any further.”

“Of course, John. Anything.”

“Tell me everything. The what, when, how, why – everything.”

“I was born this way so I’ve never known any difference. Mycroft and I spent our early years at our Grandmaman’s chateau in France. It is through her antecedents that we have this lineage; her family goes back generations to Eastern Europe.”

“Bloody hell. Are you telling me you’re related to bloody Dracula?”

“Vividly descriptive terminology, John, there was indeed blood involved and yes he is a far distant ancestor.”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes, please.”

“Sherlock!” John couldn’t stop the smile that half formed before he sat up straight again, needing answers before he went further. “Have you killed anyone?”

“I killed a deer once when I was very young. We usually drink bagged blood but if we get injured at all then we need living blood to heal quickly. There were some hunters chasing Mycroft and I through a forest in France and I got shot with a crossbow. Mycroft pulled out the dart and caught a deer for me but I didn’t know how much to take and in my pain I just let my thirst have free rein and drained it.”

“Have you bitten a human?”

“I have, yes, but I’ve never killed anyone. I learnt very quickly how much I could safely take and I would glamour them afterwards so they didn’t even know it had happened.”

“Was that because you were injured again?”

“I have done it a few times when I’ve been injured. I have also done it during sexual intercourse. As I believe I mentioned it can heighten the pleasure both for the other person and for myself. The taste of human blood from the source, as it were, is simply delicious; some incredibly more so than others."

Sherlock looked deeply into John's eyes as he said that last and gave him a wicked grin. John blushed and dropped his eyes, not knowing what to say to that.

"Does... does it hurt?"

"I'm told the initial puncture is similar to that of a needle injection, but as soon as the endorphins are released it causes sheer delight."

"Would you drinking my blood make me a vampire?"

"Only if you also drank a significant amount of my blood and were near death at the time. I have never had the inclination to do that to anyone before but I find myself to be not averse to the idea of gaining your immortality if it was ever something you wanted too. I would never force this upon you, John, and there would need to be intense consideration of the whole subject on your part before any decisions were made unless it was a life or death situation and it meant I would lose you. In that situation, unless you had let it be known that you sincerely objected to being made a vampire at all then I think I would turn you. I find myself unable to contemplate my future without you, John, and I think if your life ended then so, too, would mine."

John looked shocked at such a blunt admission. He had never expected Sherlock to admit to that so openly but it was clear that he meant every word.

"So I lay the decision at your feet, John. You know how I feel about you now. Might I enquire as to your own feelings in this matter?"

“I don’t know what to say to such a declaration, Sherlock. I spent a long time thinking about it this morning and I do have feelings for you, I have for a while now, but this vampire thing is going to take some getting used to. I don’t know how I feel about even the concept of being turned, but I certainly don’t want to think about you killing yourself over me. I’m not worth your life, not ever.”

“How little you know your worth to me, John. Do you think I would ever be like this for anyone else? Let me assure you the answer is no. I have always taken what I wanted when I wanted it with no problems or distractions. But with you I didn’t want to just take, I wished for you to desire me for myself. I let you make the decisions because I wanted you to feel that it was your own choice, which it was.”

“Thank you for that, Sherlock. I appreciate that you left me in control of myself and didn’t try to lure me in with your charms. That means a lot. It was one of the things I was going to ask, in fact. I need to know that you weren’t just chasing after me because you could but because I really mean something to you.”

“I can assure you of that. Do you think I would have taken this long with anyone else? I toned down all my alluring effects so that you would see me as I really am and I couldn’t believe it when you still wanted me even knowing all that.”

“Of course I would still want you. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, Sherlock, but it’s not just your looks, it’s your brain too; the whole package really. I’m not denying you couldn’t use a little more tact and delicacy in dealing with certain people, but I think they’re all wrong in how they think of you. You’re amazing and, as much as you try to hide it, I know deep down how much you care about things.”

“You’re the amazing one, John; to think so well of me.”

“Now who doesn’t know their own worth?”

“Well now that we’ve completed this mutual compliment session do you think we might be able to progress things along a little further in your room because one time just isn’t enough for me where your insatiable body is concerned. I think if I don’t have you again soon I may well explode and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that on your conscience. ‘Death of Consulting Detective by spontaneous combustion – News at 10’.”

John burst out laughing. “You’re an idiot, Mr Holmes, but you’re my idiot. Get over here and take me to bed.”

“Your wish is my command, Dr Watson.” With that, Sherlock lifted John off his feet as though he weighed nothing and sped up the stairs, depositing John on the bed so fast that he bounced to a stop looking surprised at how he had gotten there so quickly.

“It seems you’ve been holding back all this time. What other skills do you have that I should know about?”

“Well, there’s one you might be interested in – vampires don’t need to breathe so my stamina for a blow job is legendary.”

John shuddered at the imagery. “Oh God, yes. Please, that; I want that.”

Sherlock crawled up the bed towards John, looking exactly like a panther on the prowl with his dark hair and low slung back and hips, his eyes fixed on to John’s. As he got right up to him, he put his hand behind John’s head and pulled him in close for a deep kiss, desperate to taste John once again. He trailed his tongue through John’s mouth, reaching every part and noting everything; storing it for later perusal in his mind palace. He really wanted to take his time and map John’s whole body; seeing which were his most sensitive areas and what turned him on the most, compiling all the data possible as he didn’t want to miss a thing; but he knew that would have to wait for another time. Right now he wanted John’s cock in his mouth and nothing was going to deter him.

He pushed John up the bed so that he could rest against the headboard and see what Sherlock was doing to him. He unfastened John’s trousers and slid them down; enjoying the fact that John hadn’t put any pants on in his rush to leave earlier so his cock sprang free, already hard with a bead of pre-come waiting to be tasted. Sherlock leant forward and licked the slit, gathering the droplet and making a great show of swirling his tongue round his mouth to get the full flavour. John couldn’t tear his face away from the sight of Sherlock between his legs and in the next moment he let out a mighty shout as Sherlock bent over and deep throated him in one go, proving his lack of gag reflex as well as not needing to breathe.

“Oh bloody hell… Sherlock, yes… there. Oh God…please.”

John could feel his tip touching the back of Sherlock’s throat and Sherlock could comfortably hold him there without having to pull back so Sherlock swallowed around John’s length and hummed in his deep baritone sending shivers through John. John grabbed Sherlock’s hair, not knowing whether he wanted to pull him away or hold his head there forever. Sherlock eased his way back, licking up the shaft as he reached the top and placing a kiss on the tip as he looked up at John.

“John, would you like to experience how a bite feels? I promise you’ll enjoy it and I won’t take too much or do anything to harm you. I can take from the femoral artery which will link directly with your cock and it often happens that someone can come without even being touched. Don’t worry if you don’t want to right now. I don’t want to rush you into anything.”

“I trust you, Sherlock. I always have, even knowing what I know now, that hasn’t changed. Yes please, I’d like to try it if it’s as good as you say.”

“Thank you, John. I can practically guarantee you’ll love it and I won’t deny that I’m desperate to have a proper taste of you. The drop I had from your lip was delectable but nowhere near enough.”

John spread his legs wider and tried to relax himself. Sherlock traced his hands up and down John’s thighs, moving further inward on each pass. When he got to the centre he cupped John’s balls and pulled them down slightly then he took one into his mouth. John moaned above him, trying desperately to keep his eyes open, wanting to see what Sherlock would do next. It seemed Sherlock was intent to tease before he actually moved in for the bite. He wanted John as relaxed as possible so that even the initial puncture wasn’t too painful.

When he had John panting and writhing above him he slid one arm down to hold on to John’s leg and he kissed his way over the skin until he reached the femoral artery. Sherlock’s saliva contained special coagulants so, though John’s blood would flow freely when Sherlock bit him, he could control how much John lost and then seal the wound afterwards so there would be no risk of harm to John. Sherlock looked up at John and waited until he got a nod of John’s head before he sank his fangs into John’s leg.

John winced at the puncture but as soon as Sherlock took his first pull of blood, John felt a spark of bliss shoot up his leg and across to his cock. It seemed to tingle all round his balls and up his shaft and the next moment, his head shot up and he shouted to the heavens as he came harder than he thought possible without even being touched. He collapsed back down on the bed, barely conscious and just lay there recovering.

Sherlock took a few more draughts of the delicious endorphin-rich blood then he licked the wound to seal the puncture marks. He licked the skin all round to clean it up and then moved up higher to lick all the come off John’s shaft and abdomen. He wanted to taste everything and watching John come like that had left him feeling happier than he thought he ever had been in his life. The only thing which could possibly top it would be biting John’s neck whilst Sherlock came deep within his arse. That would definitely have to be the next thing on the agenda if John would agree to it. Sherlock rested his head on John’s abdomen and felt a soft touch to his hair as John rested his hand there, not even having the energy to move it about. Sherlock placed a gentle kiss next to John’s belly button and then let them both rest and recover.

~*~

John was slowly woken up about two hours later by soft kisses on his stomach. His hand tightened in Sherlock’s hair and, when Sherlock looked up at him, he beckoned him up higher. Sherlock crawled up his body and they lay on their sides facing each other. John leant in for a kiss then rested his forehead on Sherlock’s and looked into his eyes. 

“You were right, that was truly spectacular. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“Hardly likely that you would have.” Sherlock smirked at him.

“Alright, smart arse. You know what I mean.” John smiled back. “If it’s always like that when you bite someone, why would you ever not?”

“Well there’s the whole no-one knowing the secret thing.” Sherlock grinned at him. “And then after that there was someone being awfully slow on the uptake.”

“Hey, I was not slow on the uptake. I was just making sure it was right.”

“So have you made sure now?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“Well it’s always nice to hear.”

“Sherlock Holmes being unsure of something, now there’s a first.”

“John!”

“Sorry, sorry.” John laughed and kissed Sherlock. “Yes I’m sure,” kiss “and yes it’s right,” kiss “and yes I loved the bite,” kiss “and … yes I think I might love you too.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Sherlock rolled John over on to his back and held his head tightly in his hands whilst he placed little kisses all over his face. John laughed and tried to squirm away, wanting a proper kiss. Sherlock relented and captured his lips, kissing deeply for so long that John had to push free to gasp in a breath as Sherlock seemed to have forgotten that only one of them was able to go without.

Sherlock kissed his way down John’s neck, pausing at his pulse point and then continuing across his collarbone to his shoulder, sucking deep marks on his way. He came back to the pulse point and again moved away to kiss under John’s jaw, but each time he returned to the point where he could feel the blood pumping just under John’s skin through the carotid artery.

“Do it.” John tilted his neck further allowing Sherlock perfect access.

“John, there is nothing I would like more than to sink my teeth into you again, but I would dearly love to be buried deep inside you when I do it. Is that okay?”

“If it’s anything like what happened when you bit me before then I can think of nothing better. I really want to feel you coming inside me when you do it.”

Sherlock took John's lower lip into his mouth and bit gently, not piercing it but just enjoying having any part of John in his grasp. He slid his hand down John's chest, lightly pinching a nipple on the way past and circling John's belly button, before carrying on down to stroke John's already fully hard cock.

"Well somebody likes the idea." Sherlock laughed.

"Can you blame me? Even the thought of you inside me makes me hard so what it'll actually be like when you're there..." John kissed Sherlock's nose and grinned at him. "That was a hint for you to get on with it, by the way."

"Your wish is my command."

Sherlock reached over for the lube they'd left out from earlier and he slicked his fingers and spread John's legs so that he could work him open. He started slowly, dipping in one finger, pushing deeper each time until it was fully in. He felt around for the prostate and circled it, not actually touching the middle; getting John even more worked up. John was holding tight to his shoulders and if Sherlock didn't have extra toughened skin there would have been dark bruises by the time John was finished.

"Sherlock, stop teasing. I need you now."

"I think you love it. I think I could keep you here all day and you'd never want me to stop."

"Oh yes..., I mean, no..., now please."

Sherlock relented and pressed down on John's prostate and enjoyed the shiver he got in return. He added another finger and, when that was moving easily, another as well, driving John crazy.

"That's enough, please, Sherlock. I just need you, please."

Sherlock loved the sound of John begging him, so desperate to be filled. He slicked his cock and lifted John's legs onto his shoulders so that he could go as deep as he wanted. He pushed against John's hole until the head pressed in and John shuddered around him. He stilled for a moment and then pushed in further, pausing after each push to allow John to adjust. When he was fully sited he rolled his hips so that John could feel his full length filling him up. John groaned in delight.

"More."

That was all it took. Sherlock slowly pulled out and then, holding tightly to John's hips, he pushed back in in one hard stroke and they both moaned deep in their throats to feel the pressure. Sherlock couldn't hold back and was soon thrusting into John, alternating a few long, deep passes with several short, hard pulses and they were both sweating and panting and desperate to come.

Sherlock moved John's legs around his waist so that he could lean down and reach his mouth and neck. It also had the added bonus of pressing his stomach on top of John's cock providing him some much needed friction. Sherlock kissed his lips first; quick open mouthed kisses around their heavy breathing. Then he moved down John's neck and hovered over John's carotid. He felt John nod his head against his and stretch his neck open further to allow Sherlock access.

Sherlock pressed his tongue into the pulse and felt the speed of John's blood racing through his excited body. He extended his fangs and bit down as he pushed deeply into John's body and as he swallowed down a few mouthfuls of blood he felt a quiver around his shaft as John pulsed out his release between them. That was all it took for Sherlock; he thrust in one more time and he came as he drank, taking from one part as he gave to another.

John was still shaking with aftershocks as he revelled in the pull on his neck and the feel of Sherlock drinking his blood. Sherlock licked his neck to seal the wound, cleaning all round it. He moved up to capture John's lips in a couple of light presses as John was practically passed out already. Sherlock got some tissues and cleaned himself and John up and then pulled the cover over them both. He figured John deserved another kip after being out all night, followed by their more strenuous activities. John rested his head against Sherlock's shoulder, one arm and leg stretching over his body to keep in as much contact as possible.

Sherlock grinned as he looked down at a now sleeping John; more happy than he could say that John seemed to have accepted him for what he was and just thinking of how much more fulfilled they would be going forward and of being able to taste John's blood whenever he wanted - pure nectar. This would be their life now and that life was good, he thought, as he nuzzled his face into John's neck and settled down to sleep.

~*~


End file.
